


these words are all we have

by folignos



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folignos/pseuds/folignos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Eddie breathes.</p><p>The carpet is rough on his bare knees. He traces the hideous pattern with his eyes and blinks in time with his breaths.</p><p>Slushy rain batters the window. It sounds like the static buzzing in his head.</p><p>Lu's hand is heavy on his shoulder, thumb pressing into his pulse gently. Eddie breathes, and lets go."</p>
            </blockquote>





	these words are all we have

**Author's Note:**

> so i read [this awesome post](http://sinsense.dreamwidth.org/439102.html) about an au where rookies kneel for veteran players by [sinsensory](http://sinsensory.tumblr.com/) and then [marina](http://pitchercries.tumblr.com) wrote [this awesome benn/segs fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1362919) and THEN my babe jenna wrote [ THIS awesome fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1503416) and then at that point i decided it was my turn to join in the fun.
> 
> i didn't mean for this to happen except i kind of did. i apologise for nothing.
> 
> eternal thanks to jenna for teaching me that internet is a proper noun and also reassuring me that this is exactly as heartbreaking as i planned.
> 
> title from bastille's 'overjoyed'
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://toewses.tumblr.com) for more hockey shenanigans!

Eddie breathes. 

The carpet is rough on his bare knees. He traces the hideous pattern with his eyes and blinks in time with his breaths. 

Slushy rain batters the window. It sounds like the static buzzing in his head. 

Lu's hand is heavy on his shoulder, thumb pressing into his pulse gently. Eddie breathes, and lets go. 

He can feel the smears of eyeblack, sticky on his cheeks. He wants to apologise, knows it's irrational somewhere deep inside, but he can't help but feel like he's carrying the loss in his chest cavity, along with all the others. 

He closes his eyes. Breathes. Waits. 

Lu's hand is moving, thumb rubbing tiny circles into his collarbone, over the thin cotton of his shirt. 'It's just one game,' he says, eventually, soft. 

Eddie's breath catches in his throat. 

He swallows it back down. Says nothing. The fingers of one hand are wrapped around the surprisingly delicate bones of Lu's ankle. He can feel the pulse jumping against the pads of his fingers. 

He leans, rests his cheek against the material of Lu's sweats. They're softer than he expected. He hears Lu exhale, long and slow, and his hand moves from Eddie's shoulder to card through his hair. He grips Lu's ankle just a little tighter. 

'It was important,' Eddie says. 

Lu says nothing, at first. His hand in Eddie's hair stills. 

'I know,' he says, eventually, and some of the tension bleeds out of Eddie's shoulders. His spine is no longer coiled as tightly as it was. 'There'll be other games, though.'  He traces the shell of Eddie's ear with the tip of a finger. 

Eddie knows there'll be other games. More important games, objectively speaking. 

Right now, the only things that matter are the echo of the crowd shouting for Lu and the pulse ticking on and off in Lu's ankle. 

- 

Eddie's gut clenches when he hears the news, from fucking Twitter of all places. 

He texts Lu.  

_i need you._  

Lu texts back,  _your place, 30 minutes_.  _  
_

Eddie is on his knees when Lu walks in, head bowed, shoulders tight and trembling.

Lu sinks to his knees in front of Eddie without a word and presses their foreheads together. 'I'm sorry,' he says, almost whispering. 'I barely had time to tell Gina before it hit the Internet.'

Eddie says nothing. 

They stay like that, silent, breathing in tandem, for almost an hour. Lu's phone rings. They both flinch. 

It's Gina. Lu rises to his feet with a grace that Eddie's never been able to replicate. His limbs are too long, too unwieldy anywhere but between the pipes. 'I have to go,' he says, helplessly. 

Eddie climbs to his feet, focuses on the tightness in his knees. He still says nothing. 

Lu looks at him. 'I'll be at the game tonight,' he says, reaches his hand out halfway and then drops it. He looks as lost as Eddie feels. 

Eddie nods. 

It's March fourth, and Lu is traded to Florida. 

It's March fourth, and Eddie is shut out by the Phoenix Coyotes.

It's March fourth, and Eddie is coming undone at the seams.

- 

Markstrom is nice. 

Markstrom is familiar. 

Eddie  _likes_  Markstrom. 

Two days after he arrives, Markstrom turns up at Eddie's apartment in a Panthers hoodie with a hole chewed in the cuff big enough for a thumb and a downcast gaze. 

Eddie lets him in, offers him a cup of tea. 

Markstrom shakes his head, chews at the corner of his lip. He's shifting from foot to foot.  

When Markstrom finally speaks, it's to tell Eddie that Torts has said he needs to kneel for someone, and that backup goalies always kneel for the starters. 

'But,' Eddie says, grasping for words. 'I don't... know how,' he finishes.  _I can't_ , he doesn't say.  

Markstrom looks at him, wide open expression on his face. He looks so young. Eddie feels younger, despite having two years on him. 

'I'm sorry,' Eddie says. 

Markstrom looks at him, uncertain. 'I... should I go?' he asks, and Eddie remembers that he's just a kid that's been sent three thousand miles away from home, that Eddie is the only person in the city that he knows. 

That he needs Eddie like Eddie needed (needs) Lu. 

Eddie breathes, deep and slow. 'No,' he says. 'Come here.'

He thinks about Lu, about how he sits on the sofa with his back straight. How Eddie kneels on the outside of the V of his legs, with his head bowed. 

Markstrom kneels slower than Eddie ever did, sinking to his knees like a building crumpling. He doesn't touch Eddie at all. There's maybe two inches of space between them. It feels like the distance between Vancouver and Sunrise. 

It takes Eddie a long time to reach out. His hand feels awkward and clumsy, pressing the heel of it into the hollow above Markstrom's collarbone. Markstrom's breathing is measured and even, but his shoulders are as tense as the muscles in Eddie's thighs. 

The minutes tick by like treacle. After twenty of them, Eddie takes his hand away. 

'I'm sorry,' he says again. 'You can, uh, you can get up.' 

Markstrom rises faster than he'd knelt, squaring his shoulders. His knees are fuzzy with fluff from Eddie's rug.

Eddie feels like a failure. 

'I'll talk to Daniel,' he says. Markstrom's gaze flicks up from where it's been glued to Eddie's feet. 'He might... be able to help you.'  _Help you where I failed_ , he doesn't say. He knows Markstrom hears it anyway. 

- 

Eddie spends the third period of the Dallas game watching from the bench. He keeps his hat pulled low and focuses on the ache in his hips, his knees. 

He doesn't think about the text sitting on his phone in the locker room,  _good luck, we're all watching!_   _  
_

He doesn't think about the ache settling over his breastbone, completely different to the familiar ache in his legs. 

He doesn't think about Lu. 

- 

After the game, there's another text waiting for him. 

_not your fault. d men fucked you over._  

As he's looking at it, his phone buzzes again.  _a_ _lso fuck seguin._

Eddie laughs despite himself. 

- 

He tells himself that he's not going to watch Lu's first game as a Panther, but it's ten pm and he's sitting on his sofa flipping through the channels for TSN anyway. 

Seeing him in Panthers red hurts more than he thought it would. 

He's still wearing his Vancouver pads and helmet. The blue-green jars with the panther on his chest. 

He sees Lu throw his hands in the air when the final horn goes. Sees him bumping helmets with his new team. 

Eddie turns the TV off and goes to bed.

He doesn't sleep.

At two thirty am, he texts Lu,  _congratulations :)_

It feels like a lie. 

- 

He wakes up to a text from Lu,  _skype?_  sent about ten minutes ago.  

He texts back a smiley face and  _give me ten minutes_. 

Lu looks good, when he answers. The bags under his eyes are gone. He's starting to tan already. He's always been dark, Italian complexion shining through even in Vancouver winter, but he's almost golden in the Florida sunshine. There are freckles along the bridge of his nose. He's sitting outside, daughter on his lap. She waves at Eddie. He waves back, smiling at her automatically, before she wriggles free of her dad's grip and vanishes off screen. Eddie watches Lu's eyes follow her movement for a few seconds before looking back at Eddie. 

'Hey,' he says, quiet. 

Eddie feels his smile change into something softer. 'How's Florida?' 

'Hot,' Lu says, and laughs. 'Vancouver made me soft. How you holding up?' he asks, suddenly serious.

Eddie's gaze drops. 'I'm coping,' he mumbles.

'You know it's okay if you aren't, right?' Lu asks. In the background, his daughter is singing. 'You know it's not a bad thing to need... what we had.' 

Eddie says nothing. It seems to be a theme of his conversations, recently.

'I talked to Kes,' Lu says. Eddie tries to feel like it's not a betrayal. 'He's willing to help.'

Eddie knows Kes has had rookies before, as recent as last year. Kassian turned out okay, Eddie thinks. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He opens his mouth to answer, and -- 

'No,' Eddie says. 

Lu looks concerned. 'Eddie,' he starts. 

'If I don't kneel for you, I don't kneel.' 

'Eddie,' Lu says again.

'No, Lu,' Eddie says. 'I don't need... I don't need it.' It sounds as hollow as it feels. 'Especially not from Kes.'

He hangs up on impulse, stares at the laptop screen for a long time. Lu doesn't call back. 

-

Kes finds him at morning skate the next day, while Eddie's stretching.

'S'up, stork?'  

Eddie says nothing. Feels the tension in his hamstring. 

'Little birdy told me you were having some... issues.' 

'Little birdy should mind it's own business,' Eddie mutters, darkly. 

Kes holds his hands up in surrender. 'I'm here to help, Lack. I come in peace.' 

Eddie shifts on the ice, arches his back, feels his left hip joint pop. 'I don't need your help.' 

'There's no shame in needing it, you know.' Kes says, dropping his voice. 'We all need it, to begin with.' 

'I'm fine.' Eddie struggles not to grit his teeth. The whistle blows their conversation dead, and Kes looks at him sadly, as he skates away backwards. 

He stops a few feet away, waits for Eddie to catch up with him, and as they go to join the huddle, Kes says 'There's no shame in missing him either.' 

Eddie pretends he doesn't hear. Pretends something in his chest doesn't constrict. 

Kes looks at him one last time, and drops it.

- 

He wins the next game. 

He doesn't even pretend not to be disappointed when he checks his phone and doesn't find a message from Lu. 

- 

Markstrom's settling in nicely. 

Eddie ignores the hot flash of jealousy every time he catches him tugging on the sleeve of Daniel Sedin's jersey after practice, or after a game. Watches Daniel gives him the tiniest of nods. 

Sees Markstrom coming into the rink the next day, the undercurrent of stress almost completely gone. 

Eddie feels like he wakes up wound tighter than ever before, every day. He wonders how long before he snaps. 

- 

They drop a forgettable game to Washington, and Eddie doesn't realise who they play next until he catches sight of it on a sheet of paper in the locker room. 

He spends the entire plane journey to Sunrise reading the same page of a magazine.  

- 

The media is interesting, if interesting means stressful and invasive By the end of it, Eddie's cheeks hurt from his copy and pasted Media Smile (TM).  

On the morning of the game, he texts Lu,  _good luck_. 

_i'm gonna need it_ , Lu texts back, and Eddie feels some of the tightness in his shoulders lessen.

Seeing Lu at the other end of the rink is like taking a puck to the stomach. It takes Eddie a while to get used to that familiar mask between the other set of pipes.

He wins, but he's not happy about it.

_dinner?_  Lu texts him, after the game.

Eddie looks at his phone for a long time.

He watches Markstrom follow Daniel out, head bowed.  _can i come to your place_ , Eddie asks. 

_sure_  

- 

Eddie's vibrating with tension when he meets Lu outside the home locker room. 

Lu grins when he sees Eddie, and just like that, it's like they're back in Vancouver together. Eddie smiles back, and feels his stomach settle, just a little. 

They don't touch on the drive to Lu's. The house is dark when they get there, and Eddie looks at Lu, questioning. 

'The girls and Gina are at Gina's mom's. She thought we needed some 'guy time',' Lu says, taking one hand off the wheel to do air quotes as he pulls into the garage. 

Eddie pauses at the threshold, just for a second. 

'Hey,' Lu says. Eddie looks at him. 'We don't have to... we can just talk. Gina made spaghetti.' 

Eddie swallows. 'I want it,' he says. 'I... I need it.'

Lu nods just once. 'Okay,' he says, and Eddie steps into the house.

Lu's new house is laminate flooring everywhere, and he takes a cushion off the sofa, lays it on the floor, and sits on the sofa, shoulders square, feet apart.

Eddie falls to his knees gracelessly, and suddenly he can breathe. 

He didn't know he was so tense until it all just bleeds out of him, and his shoulders slump. Lu's hand is in his hair, and Eddie leans into it shamelessly, eyes sliding shut as he reaches out blindly to wrap a hand around that familiar ankle. 

Eddie falls asleep like that, cheek pillowed on Lu's thigh while he murmurs to Eddie, first in French, then Italian. 

He hadn't realised how much of home was wrapped up in Lu until he was gone.

Eddie doesn't know how he's going to have the strength to walk out of this house, never mind get on the plane to Tampa in three hours time.

- 

Eddie hugs Lu when he finally,  _finally_ , has to leave, or risk delaying the whole team's flight north. 

He buries his face in the juncture between neck and shoulder, and pretends he doesn't feel like he's shaking apart. 

When they part, Eddie kisses him. It's soft, and hesitant, and for one awful, awful second, Lu doesn't react, stands there with his arms frozen in a half embrace.  

And then his lips part, just slightly, and he's kissing Eddie back, just as soft, just as hesitant. 

It feels like an ending. 

When they part, Lu presses his forehead to Eddie's. Eddie keeps his eyes closed, breathes slowly, evenly. 

'Come home.'

He says it without meaning to, hears Lu inhale just a little too sharply. They pull apart, and Eddie opens his eyes. Lu won't meet his gaze. He licks his lips. Lu is not a small man, even standing next to Eddie, but he looks small now, curved in on himself.

Eddie hears a car pull up outside, hears Lu's daughter shouting gleefully that 'Daddy's home, Daddy's home!'

'I did.' 

Eddie had known it was coming. He had. 

Doesn't make it hurt any less.

'I'm sorry,' Lu says.

Eddie knows he is. That's the real kicker, he supposes. 

'I should go,' Eddie says, and flees. He's not proud. 

- 

He has no one to blame but himself when Tampa Bay scores four times on thirty shots. 

- 

The Canucks get officially eliminated from playoff contention on a Monday.

Eddie isn't even a little bit surprised.

He gets a text from Lu the next day,  _any plans for the offseason?_

He buys a plane ticket twenty minutes later.


End file.
